the food … well, the dockmaster said it was in warehouse seven … :: looking at a row of warehouses :: like that one.
He pointed at a grey unassuming structure near the transporter area. Like so many others in the area, it housed whatever goods
were coming and going into the veritable port without ships. Long ago there were likely sea-faring boats that docked there, perhaps, or at least not far from there. Those days, most things happened outside the bounds of the atmosphere, but there was still
commerce to be had on the planet where they stood. Thus, the need for storage existed.
mumbling :: That
was suspicious … the timing … he worked in security. Who knows what you could have smuggled.
the spirit, my boy. That’s the spirit. :: patronizing smile towards a scowling Patrick :: So, I’m Keneth, Keneth Nakada, engineer extraordinaire. This charming fellow is Patrick.
Vincent nodded in greeting, offering a bit of a charming smile in return.
to meet you both. Chief Warrant Officer Vincent Jones, sometimes known as Jonesy, of our small SAR team Marine contingent on the Arrow.
to meet you Chief!
And so they continued, making their way up to the doors of the warehouse until they found the one with the appropriate number.
The door, as he might have been able to have guess, was locked. He stood back, assuming the one with the assignment had a way to get in.
know how to get in?
Perhaps he should not have assumed anything. Vincent raised an eyebrow.
didn't get a code?
just blow it up. The door is a sign of the op-oppression of the controlling Federation.
raised eyebrows :: I think it’s a sign of climate control.
Vincent chuckled at both of them.
reminding us that this area is for those who have goods here and is locked.
Which, of course, made perfect sense.
that, good point.
At that point, a larger, muscular man approached them. Vincent assumed that this was the dockmaster, given his uniform, and
not just a security officer making some rounds. He also didn't seem too happy.
are you people? Clear off, this area is restricted access.
The highest ranked of the group, Keneth, seemed poised to reply when the drunken one spoke first. Vincent shook his head.
I remember you! You were the one with the fat aunt!
The look that he got from the engineer was one of mixed fear and surprise and it almost made Vincent laugh. Still, the situation
was escalating and if there was something he'd learned from his time as diplomatic security for Ambassador Nicholotti, it was how and when to deescalate potentially violent situations. The answer was always, and with the skills he had. Violence was rarely
the answer...here it would only end badly.
I told you to stay away! :: becoming purplish :: Scaring away all the people In my sister’s bar! I should dump you in the ocean, talking about sweet Aunt Gigi like that. :: jabbing a finger in Patrick’s face :: You should be JEALOUS of her body mass. Wiry
idiots like you don’t even EAT!
diplomatically :: I apologize, he’s not in his right mind, we were just here …
look Starfleet. You know him? You taking responsibility for him?
The look told him that the engineer just didn't know what to do. Vincent stepped up between him and the dockmaster confidently
as he'd done so many times in other places with other people.
we apologize for the trouble he caused, that's why we removed him.
Vincent gestured to the drunken one.
is drunk and we are Starfleet. Chief Warrant Officer Jones, Starfleet Marines. I take responsibility for him and have him in my custody.